


Same Place, Same Night, Same Love

by Christina_Potter_09



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christina_Potter_09/pseuds/Christina_Potter_09
Summary: Harry visits his parents like every Christmas Eve, only this time is slightly different.





	Same Place, Same Night, Same Love

_Same place, Same Night, Same Love_

The graveyard would have been completely silent if it wasn't for the chorus from the little chapel by it. The tombs and gravestones were all covered by a heavy sheet of snow and the new snowflakes were ready to heave the trees with more white.

There was a small light breeze and a beautiful sense of celebrating in the air, like Mother Nature knew it was time for her to celebrate as well for Mary and her little baby, Jesus.

However, the young man before the double gravestone wasn't celebrating, his eyes were puffy and red and the trails of the tears stung on his cold skin. He sniffed and tried to dry his face with his sleeve in a failing attempt to keep it together as much as possible.

It was a small tradition for him, same place, same time of the year, when the rest were distracted celebrating and tearing open some of the gifts, eating and drinking, he would sneak away and visit his parents, like he had done for the first time, back then, during the war. It was important for him, it meant a lot to him, he felt like he shouldn't let his parents on their own while he would be in a cozy house with his people. He wanted to be with his parents, even like this…

They had told him they're always there, but sometimes, it didn't feel like it, it felt like he was that little abused orphan, locked in the cupboard under the stairs.

He sighed as more tears filled his eyes and escaped down his cheeks, in times like this, times of celebrating and feasting, in a world ridden of Voldemort, in a world free of deadly banes, after he had kept up for the others, for her, during the day, it was time for him to "celebrate" for his parents in the way he knew best, the way of painful love.

'I wish you were here,' he murmurs and takes his wand out of his pocket, he tries to remember the spell and gives it a try. A few roses tangled together is the result and he sighs, he should have learnt the darn spell by now, but his emotional state does not allow him to do it right.

As he stands there, he feels a presence and he knows immediately who the other person is. He always acknowledges this presence.

A smaller hand slips in his own, while in his pocket and he glances by his side at her, her beautiful brown locks, her watery eyes, her pinkish by the cold cheeks, and then her heavy coat that only allows her breasts and belly to show as it's very large by now, with the reason for Harry to smile every day, to smile even now, before the gravestone of the unborn baby's grandparents.

'I'm here…' she only whispers and points her own wand towards the gravestone, in other times, she would kneel before the gravestone in respect, now her condition prevents her from doing so but the respect, the awe and gratitude remains the same.

Harry gives a faint smile, always the perfect handwork, always the perfect roses, in the same pure color that even makes the snow on the ground to look darker. He keeps looking at the little wrath and Hermione squeezes his hand in comfort, in understanding, if someone knows how this is for Harry, that's Hermione.

'Merry Christmas, Hermione,' He whispered the same words he had said back then, the first time they had arrived, when his parents' house was just the debris of their death and not their own house that currently was with no hosts for the few remaining friends who stood by the new Potters.

'Merry Christmas, Harry,' Hermione replied, like always, in the same tone, only this time, maybe due to the hormones, her voice is even more broken, matching his heart for his parents. They won't meet their grandchildren, they won't be there to put a hand on his shoulder while Hermione will be bringing their baby to the world in a few weeks, they won't be there for nothing before and after it.

'Yet, they're always there, and he knows, even if sometimes, he can't understand it.

'Hermione…' he whispers and feels her eyes on him, waiting to say what he wants. He hesitates for a moment, he was never good with words, but he was always good with talking to Hermione, trusting her with whatever he wanted to confess, for a moment, he wonders, had his parents said "I love you" to each other that day, before they were killed? Had they reminded to each other why all this was about? 'I love you,' finally Harry says, he wants Hermione to remember that, of course she knows, but a reminder is always nice, sweet, beautiful.

'Oh Harry,' she whispers and moves before him and hugs him as tightly as her coat and belly allow her to, she stands between him and the gravestone of his parents, and Harry knows, in a way, she's exactly in the right place as both physically and mentally, she helped him survive so many banes, she saved his life many times, she prevented him from being under a gravestone now. And he loves her for that, people believe he's the savor of the world, but she is the one who saves him; she's the one who pulls him through. 'I love you too, sweetheart,' she whispers and he smiles once again, he loves to be called with names by her, it makes him feel like a husband, it sounds silly, but for him, a family was always important and now being her "sweetheart", or her "honey" or his favorite: her "love" means the world to him.

He holds her tight in his arms, the snowflakes are melting in her wild hair, it had been tamed before but now with the hormonal changes her hair is almost as bushy as it was back in their school years, and even if she complains, he likes it like that, it reminds him of that little bossy girl who was trying to help him with one fear and one fear only, get expelled…

They break the hug and look at each other, their hands still holding each other, their wedding bands, the ones they exchanged in the chapel behind them, now shine in the reflection of white around them, symbolizing that the only enemy that shall be destroyed is Death indeed, Harry and Hermione made it, just like Lily and James did, all these years back.

The couple does not need to say anything else, the visit has taken place, their friends are waiting in their house, the confessions have been made, the hug has helped them both, they are ready.

He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders while she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, back toward the church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it  
> CP09


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